Caught by the Cowboy Dad Read online

  “Positive experiences are good for team bonding.” Bernadette’s gaze appraised Holden as her hand drifted to her abdomen. “Your father and I need to be a...team.”

  Not a couple, a team. That shouldn’t annoy Holden.

  It did.

  “So much for having fun on the tour,” Holden grumbled, leading them out the door, out of the wet, muddy ditch and onto the gravel road leading to the mine. Or at least, he thought he was leading them. When he turned around, he stood alone on the road. “Let’s move, people.”

  Devin came out with a backpack slung over his shoulders. At Holden’s questioning glance, he shrugged. “What if we miss a tour window and have to wait for a tow truck? I can read.”

  Or we could take in the view of the valley and talk...

  Holden swallowed back the thought and forced enthusiasm into his reply. “Great idea.”

  Carrying a water bottle in one hand, Bernadette closed the motor home’s door with a contortion of limbs that sent her sliding six feet or so down the muddy ditch with her arms outstretched as if she needed balance while snowboarding. Holden rushed forward as she came to a stop in a puddle and splashed about for firmer footing.

  “Are you okay?” Holden asked from above her.

  “Yes, but shoot.” Arms still spread, Bernadette stared at her feet. “My shoes and socks are wet.”

  Holden moved to help her, extending a hand down. “We can wait while you change your shoes.”

  “These are the only shoes I brought.” She reached for him.

  He clasped her smaller hand in his. And...

  His breath hitched for reasons that had nothing to do with his health.

  He’d forgotten how just touching Bernadette jolted him.

  She felt it, too. Her cheeks pinkened.

  Holden hauled Bernadette up and only barely resisted bringing her into his arms. Instead, he dropped her hand as if scalded and did an abrupt about-face. “Come on, people.” He marched onward.

  Squish-squish. Squish-squish.

  Bernadette fell into step with Devin without so much as a complaint about wet shoes or ditched motor homes. Holden liked that she wasn’t high maintenance. Didn’t change the fact that their lives were thousands of miles apart—physically and emotionally. He was a city boy. Her roots were in Idaho. He was staring over the ledge of bankruptcy. She was financially secure. He wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. And she...

  What did Bernadette want? Other than the joy practicing medicine brought her, he couldn’t remember.

  They didn’t have long to walk. The Standing Bear Silver Mine Tour was based in a two-story clapboard building with a large front porch. A sign outside proclaimed mine tours and horseback rides, handmade items, cold drinks and the best burgers in Standing Bear—an easy claim since it was probably the only restaurant in what was otherwise a ghost town.

  A small playground was situated on the opposite side of the parking lot. Two blond toddlers were being pushed on the swings by a young couple. The parents looked as tired as the paint peeling on the building’s siding. As tired as Holden had been the past month. As tired as Bernadette would be raising their baby by herself.

  The elephants bounced on his chest.

  A motorcycle roared past and down the hill, its slight rider covered in black leathers and helmet.

  Devin stared after it with a familiar, inquisitive look on his face.

  Holden made a mental note to take his son motorcycle riding as he opened the door for Bernadette. She paused to wipe the mud from her sneakers on the welcome mat. Devin chose to sit out on the porch, digging in his backpack for a textbook.

  That kid needed more real-life experience, or those older college kids were going to eat him alive.

  The building housed a small store jam-packed with Western-themed merchandise to appeal to tourists—cowboy hats, key chains, T-shirts, toys. A display of action figures swarmed a pair of red women’s boots. A narrow hallway led to the small diner on the other side of the building, where presumably the best burgers could be had.

  An elderly woman sporting a brown Standing Bear Silver Mine T-shirt sat on a stool behind the counter. She wore a tan hat that looked like she’d borrowed it from a Canadian Mountie and bent up the front brim. A handwritten name tag proclaimed her to be Myrna, and the appraising look in her eyes said she was in charge. “Are you here for the tour and horseback ride?”

  “Yes. May I use your phone first?” Holden explained about the motor home.

  Myrna considered him for a moment, scratching beneath the fluff of wispy white hair at her neck. “If you buy your tour tickets, you may use my phone. You’ll need to sign a waiver to ride.”

  “I’m an experienced rider.” Holden scribbled his information on a form. “I hope you offer more than plodding old nags.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have a good time regardless.” Bernadette touched the toe of the red cowboy boots before perusing a display of Standing Bear Silver Mine onesies and knit caps for babies.

  “Here’s the number of a tow-truck driver.” Myrna noticed Bernadette’s interest. “Those baby items are on special—buy two, get one free.” She placed a landline telephone on the counter for Holden. “When are you due, sunshine? And don’t look surprised. I can spot a pregnant woman a mile away.”

  Holden gave Bernadette a quick once-over. She didn’t look pregnant to him. He requested three tickets and handed over his credit card, waiting to hear Bernadette’s due date, too.

  “Christmas” was all Bernadette had time to say before Myrna was off again.

  “You glow, honey.” Myrna ran Holden’s credit card. “And just look at the two of you, so obviously in love.”

  Holden’s shoulders stiffened. Bernadette made a sound like she was choking back a laugh.

  For all Myrna’s acuity at spotting pregnant women, her radar was wonky when it came to reading the bond between Holden and Bernadette. “I don’t want to pry—”

  But she was going to. Holden could feel it in his bones.

  “—but the gap between your first and second child is so big. Fertility problems?”

  Bernadette lay two onesies and a knit cap on the counter. “Holden thought a new baby would bring the spark back to our relationship.” She gave him a sideways glance, as if daring him to deny it.

  Premeltdown, Holden would have parried with something like Don’t let Bernadette kid you. She was pining for another baby. But should he tease her, given their situation? His muddled brain was indecisive, and because the silence stretched, the time for playful banter passed.

  Shaking his head, he placed a call to the towing service while Myrna cackled.

  Out on the porch, Devin had a book in his hand but was staring toward where the motorcycle had disappeared. Inside, Bernadette had moved on to look at coffee mugs. She set one down on the counter and studied Myrna’s face, opening her mouth as if to say something, and then she closed it again, drifting past some bubble-making toys toward a display of postcards. But she kept slanting concerned looks at Myrna.

  Holden had seen those looks of Bernadette’s before. Once when they’d been dining together and she’d pointed out a spot on the back of a waiter’s hand that might have been cancerous. Another time, she’d encouraged a pale woman at a museum exhibit to sit and eat an energy bar. She took her medical oath seriously. But all Holden saw when he looked at Myrna was a thin old woman.

  After a brief conversation with the tow service, Holden hung up the phone. “They’ll be here in two hours. Maybe three.”

  “Plenty of time for the tour and horseback ride,” Myrna said happily. “And if you linger, we have a campground here. I’ll save you a spot down by the river. We have firepits and hookups.”

  “We’re not going to linger,” Holden assured her. “We’re headed to Yellowstone to look at the stars.”

  “After we
make some memories here first,” Bernadette said in a teasing voice. Those arched brows... That hint of a smile...

  His pounding heart had nothing to do with elephants or anxiety.

  It was as if they’d never stopped dating, as if she’d welcome him leaning forward and pressing a kiss to her lips.

  I accept.

  As if he’d tossed down a gauntlet, she’d picked it up and waved it like a flag in his face.

  Game on.

  He very nearly smiled right back at her. That is, until he remembered his life was a mess no woman should want to wade into.

  “You should linger,” Myrna said matter-of-factly. “It’s a quiet campground. The fishing is good. And if you enjoy watching the night sky, we have a small bat population. At sunset, you can see them fly out of their bat houses along the river.”

  “Like that’s not creepy,” Holden murmured.

  “It’s not.” Bernadette elbowed him. “They keep the mosquito population down.” And then she sighed and turned to Myrna. “Forgive me, but...are you under a doctor’s care?”

  “Why would you ask something personal like that?” The old woman’s voice took on a chill, which seemed ironic given her prying nature.

  Bernadette captured Myrna’s thin hand. “I’m a doctor and—”

  “You think I’m dying?” Myrna recoiled, yanking her hand free.

  “No.” And then Bernadette added in a stronger voice, “No. But...have your energy levels fluctuated recently?”

  “Yes, I’m old, you know. Plus, I just took my teenage granddaughter Francesca in.” Myrna fidgeted, looking everywhere but at Bernadette. “And now, according to you, I look like death.”

  “That’s not what I said.” Bernadette adjusted the set of her thick glasses. “A healthy woman like you should be able to run circles around Holden.”

  What? Holden straightened. “Hey. Last year I ran a marathon.”

  “And last week you spent a night in the hospital.” Bernadette’s hand touched his shoulder consolingly, bringing back all the nervous feelings of mortality he’d succumbed to on the way to the emergency room.

  “It was a false alarm.” Holden couldn’t believe he was saying that. It implied acceptance of her diagnosis—that the elephants plaguing his chest were just a by-product of too much stress logjammed in his head. “When does the tour start?”

  Myrna harrumphed and set the phone back on her side of the counter, picking up the receiver to dial. “As soon as I’m done making an appointment with my doctor.”

  “Pay for this while we wait, Holden?” Bernadette left the items she’d collected around the store on the counter and went outside to sit next to Devin, sitting close as if she had something personal to discuss.

  Regarding her invitation on this trip?

  He thought so. Everything about Bernadette was straightforward and predictable.

  Except her surprise pregnancy.

  Meanwhile, back in Second Chance...

  THINGS WERE GOING well for Shane Monroe.

  In a few months, he was getting married to the love of his life and adopting her three awesome little cowboys. Earlier this month, he’d opened up a charitable camp for kids at a nearby lake. Last weekend, he’d successfully pulled off an Old West festival, raising awareness of the town and bringing in much-needed revenue to businesses. And now, most of his cousins and both of his siblings supported the idea of retaining ownership of Second Chance.

  Grandpa Harlan would be pleased.

  He sat at the counter of the busy Bent Nickel Diner with his three soon-to-be sons, not even upset that some tourists had taken his regular table.

  “Stop grinning.” His brother Cam placed an iced tea in front of him. “Grandpa Harlan used to say when you smiled like that, you were plotting to take over the world.”

  “Are you a bad guy, Papa Shane?” little Adam asked, tipping up the brim of his cowboy hat.

  “No, son. I’m allowed to smile because I’m happy.” It was all smooth sailing from here until the year’s end when the Monroes would take a final vote about Second Chance’s future.

  The bell above the Bent Nickel’s front door rang. Most of the locals in the diner turned to see who’d come in, including Shane.

  A cowboy stood in the doorway, holding the hand of a miniature version of himself and balancing a little girl with dark curls on his hip. There was something familiar about the man, but Shane couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “I’m looking for the Monroes,” the cowboy said, taking a few more steps inside and allowing the door to close behind him.

  “Which ones?” Shane asked, no longer smiling.

  The cowboy’s stare was piercing, as piercing as Shane’s. “You, for starters.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  BERNADETTE’S WET FEET felt as wrinkled as her slim hopes for answers from and about Holden.

  He was brusque and standoffish, treating her like the interloper she so clearly was in his life. When she’d tried to joke with him in the tour office, he’d stared at her as if she’d walked into his hospital room when his back was turned and his hospital gown wasn’t fastened.

  In other words, he’d been horrified. Their banter, if one could call it that, had been awkward. She took all the blame for that. She’d been trying to show him they could still be friends.

  Epic fail, that. Maybe because she was still in love with him.

  The distinct rumble of his voice in the tour office cut through the sound of birdsong and the toddlers laughing on the swings nearby.

  Get a grip, Dr. Carlisle, or this will escalate from awkward to disastrous.

  She would not waste any more time pining after Holden.

  Beside her on the steps, Devin cleared his throat.

  And speaking of awkward...

  The text messages with stilted apologies the past few days. The impersonal queries about her health. The oddly worded trip invitation. It had all seemed immature. And it had been.

  “Pre-med textbooks,” Bernadette said in a casual tone of voice, watching the toddlers go down the slide on the other side of the parking lot. “You want to be a doctor?”

  “Yes. Medical research.” Devin clutched that book so tight she thought he was afraid someone would pry it out of his hands.

  “You invited me to come along, didn’t you, Devin?” Bernadette angled to face the teen. “You asked me to come. Without your father’s permission.”

  Shoulders hunched, Devin didn’t look up from his textbook. “Are you mad?”

  “No.” She should be, but she wasn’t the grudge-holding type. And besides, her pregnancy was rocking more than her and Holden’s worlds. It affected Devin, too. Poor kid. “You’ve put me in a tight spot with your father. This is supposed to be a trip just for the two of you.”

  “Why would I care if you’re here?” Devin muttered just as Holden opened the door behind him on silent hinges. “I was forced into coming.”

  Stone-faced, Holden handed Bernadette her bagged purchases. He walked to the corner of the porch, as far away from them as he could get, where he immediately checked his phone. Not that there was any signal here, either. She’d checked her phone earlier.

  Devin slouched lower over his book.

  “We’re both in the doghouse with your dad now,” Bernadette said, getting to her feet. She extended her hand. “What was it your father said about rolling with things?”

  The teen sighed and accepted her help to stand. “If you don’t roll with the punches, the punches will roll you.” He stowed his book in his backpack.

  They went down the steps, waiting for the tour to begin. Taking their cue, the young couple threw away their trash and then carried their children from the playground to join Bernadette and Devin.

  Holden still had his back turned to them.

  An image of Bernadette’s father came t
o mind, one with the same disconsolate set to his shoulders and a faraway set to his profile. After her dad’s terminal-cancer diagnosis when she was a teen, he’d spent a lot of time on the back porch, alone with his thoughts, wrestling with decisions he’d made and paths not taken. At least, that’s what he’d told Bernadette when she’d asked him about it. Regrets. They’d consumed him as surely as cancer consumed his once-healthy cells.

  Holden wasn’t terminal. But he was dealing with a teen trying to assert his independence and the fallout from both his own health scare and a hard stop to a romance. Bernadette was willing to bet he had regrets and that he was wrestling with them now.

  Her hand drifted over her abdomen. She didn’t want her baby to be the subject of anyone’s regret. Not hers or Holden’s.

  A breeze rustled through the pines, lifting Bernadette’s hair across her face. The morning’s rain clouds clung to the Sawtooth Mountains, blocking views of the high, stony peaks. A second storm was due to roll in tonight, but for now, the sky above them was clear and bright, at odds with the tension between Bernadette and the two Monroes. She wanted to vanquish that tension. It was why she’d agreed to come on this trip in the first place.

  “Holden’s right.” Bernadette’s words brought Holden’s guarded gaze to her. How she missed the warmth in his gray eyes. “We should enjoy this tour, regardless of our differences.”

  Devin groaned. “Not you, too.”

  “Yep, me, too.” Bernadette willed Holden not to break eye contact. “I have high hopes for this tour.”

  “Why?” Like a veteran straight man, Devin played right into her hands.

  “Because I bought a lot of Standing Bear Silver Mine merchandise.” She grinned at Holden. “What am I going to do with it if the tour sucks?”

  Ba-dum-bum.

  Her jest earned her a small smile from Holden and another groan from his son.

  “Okay, folks.” Myrna came out the tour door, cowboy boots ringing with each step. She locked the door, slipped into a worn brown checked shirt and then tied a brown bandanna around her neck, looking like a miner from olden times who had yet to strike it rich. “The tour you’ve all been waiting for is starting. The horseback ride some of you are taking with Francesca departs after we’ve visited the mine. Everyone follow me.” She led them past a signpost that indicated they were headed toward the mine and stables, which were around the corner and down a winding dirt street with old buildings appropriate to the Old West era lining either side.